She's Everything
by AngelEddison
Summary: UPDATED: For some reason the whole story wasn't posted originally, but it's fixed now. Please R&R...Grissom gets Sara upset and tries to make it right. GSR.


**A/N: UPDATED: For whatever unknown reason, when I posted this, it didn't post the entire story. Strange… So to****KateriBear, it wasn't finished, and that's probably why!**

**A/N: I love Brad Paisley and this song made me think of Grissom and Sara. **

**Love goes out to Emily. I miss her.**

**-She's Everything-**

He didn't know what happened. One minute they were just sitting there eating dinner, talking, and the next she's crying and locking herself in their bedroom.

' Why do I always screw this up? I'm an idiot that's why.'

"_I want to tell Catherine and the guys. I want us to finally be in the open." Sara announced unexpectedly just as he took a very large bite of steak. That was one thing he was very grateful for: Even though she didn't eat meat, she let him. She had said that she didn't want to change him, so as long as he kept any and all meat products in a separate mini-fridge/freezer, she was okay with it._

_However, this was one of those times he was not particularly happy about her acceptance of his choice in entrée. Because, instead of giving her some sort of reply, he sat there, chewing away like an idiot on that one piece of steak. It took him a few minutes to finally swallow the last bit and casually wipe his mouth. Meanwhile, Sara was growing more agitated by the second at his lack of response._

"_Uh, Sara…I don't know if that's such a good idea." He finally said, his negative tone only adding fuel to the fire._

"_You know what? Nevermind. Forget I said anything." She dismissed, but he could tell by the tone of her voice that she was none to pleased. That, and the way she began clearing the dishes, quite forcefully, and throwing them with a loud crash into the kitchen sink. _

"_I wasn't done with that." He mumbled to the now empty space before him._

"_Too bad!" Sara yelled from the kitchen as she turned on the tap._

_Taking a deep breath and reprimanding himself for being afraid of his girlfriend, he stood making his way to the kitchen to face the music._

"_Sara…" He cautiously spoke, stepping slowly up behind her._

"_Don't. I said forget it. It's fine. We're fine." She didn't turn around from the sink, or stop what she was doing. She was pissed. She always cleaned when she was pissed. He flinched each time her hands submerged under the sudsy water knowing that with her barely contained temper there had to be at least one broken dish below the surface._

"_Sara, I'm sorry. It just don't think that this is the right ti…" He tried to stay calm, to explain himself without upsetting her further, but was quickly cut off instead._

"_I get it. Okay? I get it. Can we drop it now?" She dismissed in a tone that warned him to do what she said. Him being the dumb, dumb, man that he is, ignored that tone and forged forth._

"_No Sara, I can't! We need to talk about this." The forcefulness in his voice cause her to stop her movements, but not turn around. Instead, she gripped the counter with white knuckles. In a gentler tone he continued. "I know that you want to tell everyone. I do. But it's not the right time."_

"_That's what you keep saying Gil. That it's not the right time. Well, we've been doing this for two years and guess what? It's never the right fucking time." She finally turned to see him, but what he saw was not the Sara he was hoping for, instead he got cold, angry eyes, directed right at him. "You know, it's just that, sometimes, it feels like you're ashamed of me." She barely whispered her last sentence, but he heard it, and it caught him completely off guard. A single tear slipped down her cheek before she dejectedly brushed it away and walked out of the room, leaving Grissom in a state of shock at her words._

It had been nearly an hour since she left the kitchen and locked herself in their bedroom. It had been about forty-five minutes since Grissom picked up his jaw and made his way to her. He knocked. She told him to go away. He sunk down to the floor in the living room and had been sitting there since. Thinking.

He loved Sara more than anything. Even his job. He wanted to tell everyone just as badly as she did, but he was afraid of the fallout on her behalf. He feared that people would accuse Sara of sleeping her way up the corporate ladder and that all of her hard, honest work, would be discredited. She loved her job, he couldn't put her in that position.

Glancing around the room, he smiled. There was so much of Sara here. She had turned his world of order and control into complete, wonderful chaos. Her sunglasses were on the coffee table. Her sneakers by the door. He could see her favorite pair of jeans in a laundry basket by the couch; he really should fold that. Getting an idea, he pealed himself off the floor and went to the computer.

Ten minutes later he was finished and making his way back to their bedroom door. Still locked. Knocking to gain her attention, he slid the clear red CD case beneath the door.

"Sara, please, just listen to it. And then, whatever you want, I'll do. I promise. I love you, Honey. Please, don't _ever_ think that I am ashamed of you. I am anything but. You, Sara, are everything to me." He spoke through the hard wood barrier, and it broke his heart as he heard her trying to stifle her cries.

He waited for a minute before he could finally hear her moving around, supposedly to retrieve the CD. He got his answer another minute later when he heard the melodic voice of Brad Paisley come through the room. As he listened to the song, memories flooded through his head, and unaware to him, hers too.

**She's a yellow pair of running shoes  
A holey pair of jeans  
She looks great in cheap sunglasses  
She looks great in anything**

_He had laughed. She was the only person he knew that would ever wear…_those._ They had to be the ugliest pair of sneakers he had ever seen. But she loved them, and they made her smile when she wore them, so he accepted the…eclectic…pair of footwear and just tried not to look at them too much._

_The jeans, now those, he _did_ love. By the looks of them, they were about as old as she was. Covered in paint and who knows what else, with more holes than there was material left. But, he didn't mind. Especially the really big whole on the butt._

_When she came home with those sunglasses, he knew not to comment. And he thought the shoes were bad. Whoever let her purchase those purple...things…really should be brought in for an interrogation._

**She's I want a piece of chocolate  
Take me to a movie  
She's I can't find a thing to wear  
Now and then she's moody**

_When it came that time of the month, he had learned early to keep a well stocked supply of anything and everything chocolate in the house. She would go days without a single substantial thing, only chocolate. He had to say though; he loved watching her eat it. She looked so blissful, licking the melted remnants off her fingers. But, when she'd moan, then he would start getting a little jealous of the sugary confections._

_Whenever a preview for a new movie would cross their television screen, she just _had_ to see it. No matter what. So he would take her. She would get the extra large tub of popcorn and saturate it with enough butter to cause an immediate heart attack, but it made her happy, so he would swallow his health concerns and dig in. _

_She never worried about what she wore to work. It was work and she was bound to get whatever it was destroyed at a scene anyways, but when they went out, he would usually end up having to reschedule their reservations because she couldn't decide on anything to wear. She loved dressing up for him, but when she did, everything had to look just right._

_Other than the typical PMS mood swings, she did have her occasional moments. Usually following an emotional taxing case, or just too long without sleep. Either way, they would get through it. He was no saint either._

**She's a Saturn with a sunroof  
With her brown hair a-blowing  
She's a soft place to land  
And a good feeling knowing  
She's a warm conversation  
That I wouldn't miss for nothing  
She's a fighter when she's mad  
And she's a lover when she's loving**

_He loved her little car. A little Saturn sedan with a sunroof that she never closed, which had caused some problems with rainstorms several times. The car was such a piece of crap, she would most certainly need a new one soon, but she was so in the love with the damn thing. He did however quite enjoy watching her in it, with her hair blowing in the wind and her sunglasses, the not so ugly ones, perched on her nose._

_When he came home, falling into bed with her, cuddled up and her long fingers running through his hair, was by far his favorite place to be._

_It had taken him some time to finally open up to her fully, even after they began dating, but once he did, he loved his conversations with her. The would often curl up on the floor with a deck of cards or a crossword puzzle and just talk for hours, about everything and nothing. He wouldn't trade those moments for anything._

_When she got mad, he knew it and was usually smart enough to stand back and give her the space she needed to cool off. But there were those times that his dumb, male self took over and he dug himself an ever deeper hole. She had been known to break dishes, the vacuum, a window from trying too hard to clean off a speckle and a duster. But in the end, there house would always look immaculate and she'd be herself again. It was a win-win situation. But, when she was in a good mood, oh man was he there to enjoy it. She was like a siren, and he was definitely willing to hear her song._

**And she's everything I ever wanted  
And everything I need  
I talk about her, I go on and on and on  
'Cause she's everything to me**

_He used to think that he didn't need love, didn't want love. Until he met her. Then he knew he _could_ love, it was just a matter of time before he accepted the rest. He would gladly give up everything for her. He only wished he knew how to tell _her_ that._

_Jim knew. He was the only one, which they found ironic given that the rest were trained to see what was right in front of their eyes. Ever since the man found out, he had used every possible opportunity to make fun of Grissom for how "love sick puppy" he had become. Grissom, on the other hand, would use every opportunity to gush about how happy he was with her, how she changed his life, how he couldn't imagine not having her, how he wanted to marry her…every time._

**She's a Saturday out on the town  
And a church girl on Sunday  
She's a cross around her neck  
And a cuss word 'cause it's Monday  
**

_On the rare occasion that they both shared a day off, they took it. Most commonly 'forgetting' their cell phones as Sara would drag him all around town. A day off for her no longer meant sitting at home with text books and police scanners. No, now she went out. With him. They would do everything. Carnivals, museums, movies, picnics…_

_Okay, so maybe she's not a church girl…But, she did know a lot stories about the Saints. And if a documentary came on the television involving religion, she was eager to watch, and to learn. Her childhood hadn't exactly provided much in the ways of theology, so she found it to be an interesting subject to explore. He very much enjoyed when she would attack him with questions about his own beliefs and teachings from his days as a Catholic._

_Though she didn't wear it, Sara did own a cross. She kept it tucked away in a little box, within a show box that she kept hidden in the closet. He had asked why she had it once, and why she never wore it and she _

_had clammed up. Finally she told him that it had belonged to her mother, and that it was a part of the past that she didn't want to remember. He had let it stay at that._

_It was amazing the transformation that had occurred in Sara since they became an item. She was still highly devoted to her job, but it took a lot more effort to get her there these days. So, when it came time to get up and go back to the place where they were merely friends and colleagues, he could only laugh at the string of cursing that would come from her mouth. A trucker. That's what he would call her._

_**She's a bubble bath and candles  
Baby come and kiss me  
She's a one glass of wine  
And she's feeling kinda tipsy  
**_

_He loved finding her in the bathtub. Usually, she would indulge in a hot bubble bath on the days that he would be staying late at work. He loved to come home to that sight. Sara, lounging in their large claw foot tub, bubbles covering everything vital, but left enough exposed to make him take notice. Music would be softly playing with dozens of candles lit throughout the room and the light turned down. And always, _always_, some trashy romance novel in her hands. It made him smile every time._

_The moment she saw him standing in the doorway, the novel would be thrown to the floor and she would make room for him to join her, saying simply, "kiss me." He would always comply when those words passed those perfect lips._

_They never discussed it much, but Sara's bout with alcohol a few years earlier had changed her. She had dealt with most of her issues, at least to the point where she was relatively happy, but with that, meant that she left alcohol behind her. It was only on very rare occasions that she would join him in a glass of wine at dinner, or before bed. But, ever since she had put a stop to drinking, she had become quite the light weight. One glass and she would be trying to seduce him. Not that he minded, of course._

**She's the giver I wish I could be  
And the stealer of the covers  
She's a picture in my wallet  
Of my unborn children's mother**

_It always astounded him how even with everything that she had been through in her life, she was still one of the most generous people he knew. She was constantly donating money, food, clothing, anything to shelters, battered women's organizations, and the foster care system. Plus, whenever she could she would volunteer her time, to which he would usually join her. She was always helping people that he would probably not have even given a second glance to. He wished he was more like her._

_One thing, however, she was _never_ generous about was the covers. He would always wake up freezing to find that she had stolen them and wrapped herself up tightly in a little ball, her adorable sleeping face the only thing visible, and even that wasn't always there._

_She had told him once that he was asking for trouble putting a picture of them together in his wallet if he wanted them to remain a secret, but he couldn't resist. He wanted to be able to see her whenever he wanted, and short of calling her away from her crime scene just to see her face, he thought a picture would do._

_The never really discussed children, other than just a basic mention or two. But never in full detail, or of their actual wishes on the matter. But he was sure that if he were destined to have children, she would be their mother. He couldn't imagine anyone else that he would want to raise a child with._

**She's the hand that I'm holding  
When I'm on my knees and praying  
She's the answer to my prayer  
And she's the song that I'm playing  
**

_He didn't pray often, but when he did it usually concerned her. Sometimes, when she would awake from yet another nightmare from her past, he would hold her hand as she fought to gage reality, and silently pray that somehow she could truly release her demons and finally be able to live her life free of the ghosts that haunted her._

_He used to pray when he was younger to find that one thing that would bring meaning to his life. And for a long time, he thought that the answer had come to him in the form of his career, but then she entered his life and he realized how wrong he was._

_Music was a large part of their life, as they didn't watch much television, but a radio or CD was always playing in their home, or the car. He found it strange that before they were together, he never noticed the lyrics much as he did the music itself, but now it seemed every song he heard reminded him of her some how. The song he was having her listen to now was by far, his favorite, it was as if the writer knew Sara personally._

**She's the voice I love to hear  
Someday when I'm ninety  
She's that wooden rocking chair  
I want rocking right beside me  
**

_He could just sit there and listen to her talk for hours. The sound of her voice was like sugar to his ears. His love of literature only grew when the words came out in that beautiful voice of hers. He would give her a book, cuddle up with her and just listen to her recite the words he already knew, over and over. _

_When he looked to the future, all he saw was her. He prayed that if he made it to ninety, she still be there, sitting by his side, loving him just as much, if not more than she did today. He hoped so. He couldn't picture making it to ninety without her by his side._

**Everyday that passes  
I only love her more  
Yeah, she's the one  
That I'd lay down my own life for**

_It was true. He never thought it would be possible to love someone, never mind feel that love increase with each passing day. Sure, his mother had told him about how much she loved his father, and he knew it to be true, but he didn't fully understand the concept until he let himself love Sara. _

_She was the one for him. She was it. If he didn't have her, he wouldn't have nothing. But, he gladly accepted that, and just prayed that she'd stick around. _

_The day he realized just how much Sara had become a part of him was just after they began dating and she was held hostage by a psycho rapist in a mental hospital. He hated to admit it, but Adam Trent's actions had been the kick in the ass he was looking for. In that moment, that one terrifying moment, he would have traded places with her if he could. He would die for her, without a second thought. He would gladly die, if it meant she would live. Another thing he had never told her, perhaps he should._

**And she's everything I ever wanted  
And everything I need  
She's everything to me  
Yeah she's everything to me**

Everything I ever wanted  
And everything I need  
She's everything to me

As the song ended, he noticed how quiet it had become. No longer could he hear her sniffles and he vaguely wondered if that was a good sign or not.

"Sara?" He hesitantly called, sliding down the door to sit on the hard wood floor of the hall, resting his head against the only thing keeping him from her.

'Damn door.'

"Sara, honey. I know you're mad. And I really am sorry. I didn't mean to completely dismiss you like that. I know you want to tell everyone, and believe me I do too, I'm just…I'm scared." He admitted sadly. He hadn't hurting her like this. Rustling noises on the other side of the door alerted him and he sat straight up, only to slump back down when he heard her mirror his position on the opposite side. Back to back, with that damn door between them.

"Of what?" Her voice was strained from crying and barely above a whisper. It tore at his heart.

"Of losing you." He answered back, so sad it struck a chord in her heart.

"What? Gil? Why would you lose me?" He heard her move, but before he had a chance to acknowledge that, the door flew open and he fell backwards.

"Ow." He sighed, rubbing the back of his head as Sara gingerly sat him up.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry. Let me see." He smiled. She was so cute when she was in worry mode.

"I'm fine. Honey. Honey. I'm fine…Stop!"

"Sorry." She sheepishly mumbled as she slid down to the floor beside him, both now leaning against the wall.

Several moments passed in silence before Grissom took Sara's hand in his own and spoke.

"I'm afraid that once everyone knows, once our secret is out, that the thrill of being with me will be gone and you'll leave. Or that people will make assumptions about us, about you…"

"You think that people will say that I'm sleeping with the boss to move up in my career?" She turned to face him, shocked that he had finally said what was on his mind.

"Well, to some it may seem that way." He sighed, he didn't know how to say this without offending her.

"So what. Gil, I love you. I'm not with you for the sex, though I do very much enjoy it, and I'm not with you for my career. I mean come on, in the two years we've been together I haven't gotten a promotion, or favoritism on any case. I don't care what they say about me. We know the truth, and the people that truly care about us will too."

"Sara, things will change. Despite just what people say, there will be repercussions to face."

"So we'll deal with that when we get there. Together." She squeezed his hand and looked him straight in the eye. "Gil, I'm not going anywhere. I promise. No matter what happens. And I'm not letting you go anywhere either. But I don't want to hide anymore. I don't want to listen to Catherine going on about how you have some new woman in your life and her listing off the candidates. Or Nick's constant attempts to fix me up with his friends. Or Greg asking me out every other week…"

"I don't think him knowing would change that." Grissom smirked.

"Fair enough. I just…I want to hold your hand in public without having to look over our shoulders. Or sit next to you at a team breakfast without all eyes turning to us."

"I want that too." He agreed, pulling her close to him and kissing the top of her head. "If you think we can do this, I will happily follow you anywhere."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Well, how about you follow me to the car and we can go to the store." She stood up, offering him her hand.

"The store? This conversation just took a large turn that I didn't follow." He stood up with her and followed her to the kitchen. Again flinching as she reached her hand into the now cold water covering the dirty dishes. Pulling the plug to the drain the water lowered until the dishes were all that was left. All broken.

"We need to get some dishes." She shrugged guiltily, looking at the floor and he tried not to laugh.

"It's alright. But, could we maybe stop and grab something to eat while we're out? You sorta threw my dinner away."

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry."

Wrapping her up in a warm hug, he placed a kiss in her hair. "I love you, Sara."

"I love you, too." She pulled her face from his shoulder and looked him in the eye. "And I loved the song. Thank you." Leaning in she gave him a slow, lingering kiss.

"I may not have created the words, but I do mean them. You're everything to me."


End file.
